


Roar

by yeaka



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Riku stumbles on a little lion.





	Roar

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fair warning that I’m still playing through the KH series so don’t know all its lore yet. Set during KH2.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The lush jungle is full of cloying heat that gnaws at his skin right through the black cloak, but Riku doesn’t lower the zipper a single centimeter. He lets his silver hair cling to the sweat of his neck, keeps the strip of dark fabric tight around his eyes, even bears the leathery gloves that seem to want to crack under the pressure. At least it’s better than the plains. He wades through the thick underbrush like still water, ducking under branches and vines, heedless of whatever obstacles are thrown his way. Something here _pulls at him_. He’s sure this one is _right_. He’s getting better, he thinks, at sensing the darkness, and whatever he follows isn’t that.

He doesn’t know what it is either, but it halts him when he steps into a clearing, only large enough for a single log that rots into the emerald grass. He can hear a stream rushing nearby. Then the leaves rustle, and Riku tenses, ready.

It’s no Heartless that bursts through. A streak of chestnut brown flies towards him, stopping right between his shoes—a little ball of fur on four legs. It looks up at him with big, blue eyes, piercing and clear, and for a moment, Riku’s _there again_ , back on Destiny Island, watching Sora’s pure sapphire eyes, deeper than any sea or sky. 

He shakes himself out of it with a wince of self-annoyance; there’s no use slipping into that again. It’s hurts enough as it is. The creature—a baby lion, he thinks, looks up at him and mewls. The sound is deeper than a cat but not much rougher. The cub howls it again, then again, faster, into a rush of nonsensical noises that almost sound like _speech_ —like it’s trying to tell him something, but Riku doesn’t understand a word. The language of animals is beyond him. The cub meows anyway and lifts onto two stout hind legs to paw at the hem of his cloak, until Riku takes pity on it and bends down. 

He scoops the cub up into his arms, and it’s instantly happy—or at least, Riku thinks it is. The noises are higher pitched, and it squirms in his grip but doesn’t try to leap away. Riku cradles it against his chest, wondering—some animals can detect natural disasters; maybe it’s trying warn him of some Heartless invasion? But the more it squawks, the less he understands.

It paws at him anyway, claws never really cutting, just pressing firm against his shoulder, then batting at his silver hair, then nuzzling into his chin, sweet and soft and bizarrely heart-wrenching. Riku hasn’t felt such an innocent touch in _ages_ , and it’s good to feel something other than a weapon in his hands. But he can’t see enough around his blindfold, even though the fabric’s not fully opaque. When he lifts it up over one eye, the cub goes crazy with glee. 

He watches it like that, then runs a hand through the spiky scruff of its head, petting it while he asks, “What do you want?” It howls and nuzzles into his hand. It isn’t until then, with it squirming, lifted higher, and the blindfold half-up, that Riku sees the chain around its neck—silver with a crown hung from the middle. The familiar symbol clenches Riku’s chest, though it gives him no new answers, only questions. The cub mewls, now woefully, as though willing Riku to _see_.

Riku doesn’t. He pets it for a while anyway, because his heart’s eased for a time just by holding it, and its silly, spiky fur and cute face and bright eyes remind him of someone he’s lost. But eventually he knows it’s enough, and he sets the cub down again, sure that whatever he’s looking for is somewhere else. Even though he can’t feel the tug anymore, he knows it’s out there. This can’t be it. He’s just lost the trail: clouded himself over with the little lion. 

He gives it a bittersweet smile, then deliberately turns and walks away. 

It howls at him and follows.


End file.
